


The Accident

by LondonGypsy



Category: Kane (Band)
Genre: Angst, First Kiss, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sexual Tension, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-30
Updated: 2012-07-30
Packaged: 2017-11-11 01:58:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/473193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LondonGypsy/pseuds/LondonGypsy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A horrible accident, uncertainty and a realization.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Accident

**Author's Note:**

> As always - huge Thanks to my beloved SuperWhoLockGypsy for the amazing Beta!! You rock, Darlin!! ♥

A blink of an eye. 

One heartbeat. 

Just one second. 

And everything changes, everything falls apart. 

Steve knows all those phrases, of course, but he never thought that it would apply to himself one day. 

He stands in his living room, blindly staring out the window, the phone held loosely in his hand. The sound of breaking glass wakes him out of his shock. He glares at the floor and sees the phone lying there, broken and shattered, just like his entire life. 

He staggers to the couch and falls down, breath coming in hectic pants now. Faintly he realizes that he's close to hyperventilating and the blurry edges around his sight force him to take a few deep breaths. 

“Oh God... Christian....” 

He buries his face in his hands; he can't get himself to just even think about making all those calls: his Mom, his -their- friends...

The doorbell rings. 

He lifts his head but he can't get himself to move. The ringing continues, becoming more urgent. Eventually it stops and he lets out a relieved sigh. He can't face anybody, not in the state he is right now. 

A loud knocking on the deck doors makes him yelp. 

“C'mon man, open the fucking door. Beth called, let me in...” 

Riley's familiar face is pale and shows all the shock Steve is feeling himself. 

He stumbles to the door and opens it. 

Riley's hug comes unexpected and his cold hands on Steve's back stand in hard contrast with the warmth of his cheek against his own. 

“So fucking sorry, man...” 

His words are rough and Steve loses it. 

The familiarity of Riley's voice, the feeling of his body against his own and his murmured words pierce through the stupor Steve has been in since he got the call. He breaks. 

Tears prickle behind his closed eyelids and as they start running down his cheeks it’s like a dam broke. He's crying silently, the tears leaving warm trails on his cold face. 

Riley squeezes his shoulders and pulls him a little closer. 

“Shh, its all gonna be okay...all good... shh...” 

Riley shuffles them around and maneuvers them to the couch. They sit down and Riley leaves his hand on Steve’s shoulder while he's still silently sobbing. 

Eventually he stops and Riley swallows hard as their eyes meet. 

Steve's gaze is as blue as the ocean outside the windows, shimmering with grief and unshed tears. 

“He might die.” 

Only three words but they make Riley jerk back. 

“Don’t say that, man. He's gonna be okay, you know how fucking stubborn he can be.” 

Steve snorts an unamused laugh and wipes his hands over his face. 

“What did Beth tell you?” he asks harshly. 

Riley shrugs.

“Not much, only that there was an accident and they had to put him in a coma and...” 

Steve's gaze is hard and Riley flinches. 

“Well, she didn’t tell you everything...” 

He stops and straightens his back before he continues. 

“His neck is broken. He has severe internal bleeding and they don’t know if he’ll ever wake up.” 

Shocked silence falls, Riley's pale face goes even whiter and he clenches his hands into fists. 

“Fuck,” is all he can say. 

“That’s a way to put it, “ Steve groans. 

Both men sit there, processing the thought of a permanently injured Christian Kane. 

“I gotta call my Mom,” Steve mumbles eventually, reaching for his phone as he remembers that he broke it. 

Wordlessly Riley hands him his own, with Sandy's number already dialed. 

“Riley, sweetie...” 

Sandy's happy voice forces more tears in Steve's eyes. 

“No, it’s me, Mom.”

“Stevie? Why are you calling me from Riley's phone?” 

“I broke mine. Mom, I...I have to tell you something...” 

“Are you okay, honey? You sound terrible. What happened?” 

Steve steels himself.

“Christian had an accident on set. It’s...,” he swallows hard and squeezes his eyes shut. “It’s serious... very serious... I, God, I don’t know if he'll make it... Tim called me and he said...he said he's hurt really bad... and...” 

His voice breaks and he can't talk anymore as the lump in his throat gets bigger and bigger. 

But Sandy wouldn’t be Sandy if she doesn’t react immediately. 

“Go. I'll call everybody, cancel everything, take care of your Dad. Give me Riley and go pack. I'll book you a flight.” 

Steve closes his eyes and relief washes over him. His pragmatic Mom was already organizing everything necessary; he could almost hear her brain working. 

“Thank you. I love you, Mom,” Steve croaks. 

Her soft reply makes him swallow again. 

“I love you, too, Son. Now go and get ready. I'll pick you up and drive you to the airport as soon as I have the booking done. Now give me Riley.” 

Steve hands the phone back to his friend and hurries to his bedroom to pack. 

*

The empty apartment feels odd as Steve opens the door. Throwing his keys on the table by the entrance he carefully takes a step inside. 

Usually Christian waits for him, laughing and happy to see him. 

Today it’s dark and quiet. Too quiet, and Steve shivers. 

The thought that it would be like that from now on briefly crosses his mind but he shoos that thought away. 

He came right from the hospital, and since he didn’t have time to get a hotel room he hesitantly went where he always goes when he’s in PDX: Christian's place. 

Usually he feels at home here. Christian had turned the guest room into a permanent room for him. He has clothes here and everything he needs; it’s a second home away from his own place in L.A., but not today. 

He's wondering if it ever will be again. Right now he doubts it. 

He's exhausted and needs sleep. He's been up for more than 36 hours by now, and he feels how his body demands some rest. 

He went straight to the hospital after Sandy drove him to the airport, promising to follow up as soon as possible. As he arrived at the hospital Mama Kane was already there, waiting anxiously for word from the doctors. But even though she was terrified and scared to death she still was worried about Steve. 

She had sent him home after he fell asleep on his chair the second time. 

He had protested, of course, but her gentle voice, filled with tears, got a little more urgent. 

“I'll call as soon as we get news. Get some sleep, eat and come back when you're rested.” 

Her blue eyes were warm and soft as she laid a hand on his cheek. 

“Go home, Stevie,” she said, “you can't do anything right now.”

So he left.

And here he was now. 

Steve staggers down the hallway to his room. Christian's bedroom door is open and he can't help but throw a glance into it. 

It’s like it always is: curtains open, bed barely made and the guitar leaning against the wall. The faint smell of Christian's current aftershave lingers in the air and Steve gasps in shock: it’s the one he gave him for his birthday. 

Cursing Steve grabs the door handle and slams the door shut. He can’t stand it right now. He hurries to his room and closes the door. He doesn’t bother with undressing; he only kicks his boots off his feet and falls on the bed. He rolls on his back and stares at the ceiling with blurry vision. 

“Fuck...Christian...” 

It’s only a whisper but it echoes through the room until sleep finally takes over. 

*

The following weeks are horrible. Christian is recovering, yes, but he’s still in a coma and shows no sign of waking up. The bruises are fading, the bleeding has been stopped and the broken neck is healing very well; at least, that’s what the doctors say. 

But still no signs of him waking up. 

Steve has canceled all of his obligations and only leaves the hospital to shower and a grab a few hours of sleep. 

Christian's friends and colleagues come visiting, of course, and the room is buzzing with chatter and once in a while there's even laughter. The docs tell them all the same thing and Steve doesn’t get tired of reminding them. 

“Be natural around him, talk to him, tell him about your day, just anything that you might tell him if he was awake. We don’t know how much gets through to him but we assume more than we think.” 

Everybody tries to talk to him; some do it really well, some not so much, but they all at least try. 

The nights, though, are the times that get to Steve. 

When everybody is gone and it’s only him, and he just can't leave. 

When he sits at Christian's bed, hearing only the mechanical ups and downs of the machines that force the air into Christian's lungs. 

When it’s too quiet in the room; it slowly gets to him, eats him alive. 

One night he has had enough and the next day he brings the little radio Christian owns. 

Now the nights are filled with the one thing they both love so much; the music is always present, never loud but always in the background and it helps Steve tolerate the sounds of the machines a little. 

Slowly, almost unrecognizably, the visits get less. Sure, his parents always come and so do Christian's, David comes by every time he has a spare hour. 

They keep calling, asking how he’s doing but they clearly have continued with their own lives, and Steve can't even blame them. 

Sometimes he wished he could do the same. But he can't. Even though they suggest it to him once in a while, he just can't keep going on. 

Darren is the one who insists the most. 

“Your music is suffering, man,” he says one day as he pulls Steve away from Christian's bed and out into the gray, rainy day. 

“You gotta do something. People keep asking about you, asking when you'll be back, they want to see you, hear you again. If you don’t do anything about it, everything we worked for is gone...” 

Steve can only stare at him. 

“What? Do you really think...?” 

Darren's gaze goes soft and he shakes his head. 

“No. Of course not. I'm sorry, just forget what I said.” 

Steve eyes him and for the first time he really sees him, sees the dark shadows under his eyes and the hanging shoulders. 

“Darren, what happened? You aren’t telling me everything.” 

Darren shrugs and avoids looking Steve in the face. 

“Nothing, man. It’s all good. It’s just...” 

Steve frowns. 

“Come on, tell me.” 

“It’s...well, Ro could get a permanent spot in a Vegas show. It would be a big thing for her, huge actually. It'd be on a daily basis but she could always take time of for … uhm... well, if you would wanna tour again. But...” 

“Do it,” Steve says, searching Darren's eyes, “make that deal happen. She deserves a great spot and if it gives her the exposure she deserves it'd be a shame to not take it. I... I don’t think I am doing anything soon, so...” He falls silent and Darren flinches at the hard tone in his voice. 

“You know what? Just take the _Sound Parlor_. Take it all, I won’t be able to work there anytime soon, so it would be better for you to keep the company running.” 

Darren looks at him, confused, but his eyes start shining. 

“Are you serious? That is our baby, _your_ baby, you put so much effort into it, and now you just wanna give it up?” 

“Darren, you are the one in charge anyway, so... I know you will make the best of it.“ 

And that’s it for Steve, he just closed that chapter of his life. It doesn't mean anything to him anymore. All he cares about is the man in the bed in the building behind him.

Christian. The man he’s known for 14 years now. The man he considers his best friend and who knows everything about him, good and bad. 

The man who kept him going through all these years. He was the one who encouraged him to start his own music production company. He had always had his back, had always been there for him. 

Even the band break up a couple of years ago couldn’t separate them. And as Christian called and asked him to try it again, he had said yes in a heartbeat. 

They stuck together through thick and thin, highs and lows, and Steve can't think of a better and more loyal friend than Christian. 

He knew that he couldn’t concentrate on anything right now even though he had tried. 

Last weekend Mama Kane had sent him home, threatening him to not come back before Monday. As he came home and had eaten a little he wandered through the apartment not knowing what to do.

His guitars were tucked in their cases. He hadn’t touched them since he arrived and he could feel the rush of adrenaline in his veins as he opened the lid to one case. 

He took the guitar and let his hands slide over the worn wood and the tingling strings. 

But as he sat down and tried to play something he couldn’t. His fingers were stiff and he couldn’t play. It didn’t feel right, not with knowing Christian was lying in a hospital bed, maybe not even able to play ever again. Cursing, he had put the guitar back in its case and put both cases in his closet, hiding them from teasing him. 

*

Weeks passed, turning into months, and slowly Steve became restless. He never was the person that could sit still for a long time. Christian's condition hasn’t changed much, he was breathing by himself now, but that was all. 

Steve is sitting by his bed this morning, telling him softly about the crazy cab driver who drove him here as his phone starts buzzing. He glares at the display and frowns before he answers the call. 

“Griffin,” he snarls. 

“Hey man.” 

Eric's voice sounds far away and Steve gets up to in order to hear him better.

“Been a while, huh?” 

Steve grits his teeth; Christian's manager was at the hospital exactly one time. Steve is still mad at him and he lets him know it. 

“What do you want?” His voice is icy and he takes a deep breath, hoping to not throw the phone against a wall.

“Woo, Carlson, relax. Just wanted to hear if anything changed with...uh...his condition.” 

Steve's hands start trembling as he grabs the phone tighter. 

“No. Your cashcow is still in the same fucking hospital bed he’s been in since the last time you were here.” 

He hears a muffled curse. 

“Shit, man, what the fuck is wrong with you?” 

Steve huffs a hard laugh. 

“Really, Griffin, really? You seriously ask me what’s wrong with me? My fucking best friend is in a coma for fucking weeks now, there's nothing I can do and everybody else keeps forgetting about him? Starting with you. And you really wanna know what’s wrong with me? Fuck you, Eric.” 

He's panting in anger now and only the view of Christian's pale face keeps him from smashing the phone into a corner. He disconnects the call; he can't stand talking to him now. It only takes seconds to ring again but Steve ignores it. 

Taking a deep breath he sits down in his chair by the bed, watching the up and down of Christian's chest and desperation washes over him.

“Fuck, man, c'mon, wake up, hmm? I need you here. They are all driving me crazy. Nobody cares anymore. Everybody goes on with their lives as if nothing had happened.” 

He buries his face in his hands, sighing deeply. 

“You know, I don’t know how long I can bare this anymore. I mean, I'm always here for you, you know that. Fuck, you would do the same for me. But... I miss my music, fuck, I miss _our_ music. I miss _you_. The bickering and the fun we had together. Now I can't even get drunk without thinking about all the times we did that together. And that’s the only thing that helps me to forget that you're here, in this damn bed... Fuck, Christian, I need you...” 

He had made it a habit to talk to Christian when he's here, hoping at least a little bit gets through to his sleeping mind. But the longer he stays unconscious the more intimate those monologues have gotten. Steve had told him stuff over the last few weeks he wouldn’t have said if he were awake. 

“I need you,” he whispers again, suddenly realizing that he not only misses the music or the fun times. He misses Christian's touch, all the times he had hugged him, nudged against him or ruffled through his hair when he was in a playful mood. 

He misses his warmth and his smell when they were on stage. And he misses the twinkling in his eyes when he smiled at him, grinning widely with happiness. He just misses everything that defines their life together. 

“Wake up, man, please...” 

Steve's hands fall on the bed, he feels helpless and frustrated. His fingertips brush over Christian's arm and out of instinct he takes Christian's hand in his own. It’s cool and feels unreal, but Steve doesn’t care. He wraps his fingers around Christian's, holding his hand between his own warm palms. Absently he caresses the skin with his thumb, wanting him to feel it so desperately he doesn't hear the quickening beeps of the heart monitor. He's so used to it, it’s just a noise in the background that he doesn't notice anymore. 

“C'mon, dude, I can't do this alone here. I don’t know what to do. I can't play. I can't write. I tried – total disaster. I couldn’t even play one fucking song. Darren runs the _Parlor_ on his own now. I can't concentrate on anything. I... you... shit, I don’t even know what I am doing here, man. You know, you totally owe me for this all here... I mean...” 

Steve tries to keep a playful tone to his words but his voice breaks and as the tear falls on the back of his hand he realizes that he’s about to lose it. 

He looks up into Christian's motionless face. 

They shave him every other day; his hair is freshly washed and floats in soft waves over the white pillow. Steve looks at him as if he had never seen him before, sucks in his entire appearance. 

Closed lids with dark, long lashes over usually-sparkling eyes, as blue as the summer sky on a hot July day, the straight nose and the pale scar on his upper lip. All things Steve knows better than his own face. But he's drinking in the sight, memorizes every single inch of his face. 

“Christian...” 

It’s only a whisper but Steve can hear the need in his own voice. 

He lets go of Christian's hand and gets up, pacing through the room, unable to stay still. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, what the hell am I doing here?” he mumbles, throwing a short glance over to the bed again. The man draws his attention, no matter what, and Steve can only wonder at himself. 

“What... am I? … Nah, man, you're going nuts here... C'mon, get yourself together.” 

He's muttering to himself now, wandering through the room, restless and nervous. 

“You know, I should be mad at you. You're totally killing my career. It’s your fault that I can't do anything but come here, every fucking day. I sit by your bed, talking to you as if nothing happened, tell you shit I wouldn’t even tell my Mom and what do I get? Nothing. Nada. Nil. You ain’t even here... you know, I'm really pissed.” 

Steve talks louder now, ranting angrily while pacing through the room. 

“And the worst? I can't even hate you. Because I know you would do the exact same fucking thing for me. You would sit by my bed, talk to my body, hoping to get through to me. Fuck, man, come on, you have to wake up so I can kick your ass for making me do this.” 

Steve falls back onto the chair by the bed and his hands reach out, taking Christian's again; it doesn't even feel odd anymore, it just feels like the most natural thing to do. 

“Please, Chris, if you can hear me... come back to me.” 

Steve's emotions boil over and without thinking he lifts Christian's lifeless hand and presses a kiss on his knuckles. 

“Please...” he whispers, closing his eyes to hold back the tears that want to escape. “Please...”

Nothing happens; of course not. 

Steve slumps down, still holding Christian's hand; it’s his only lifeline, the only connection he has to him right now. 

*

It’s dark as he wakes up and his back hurts like hell. He's half laying on the bed, Christian's hand still gripping tightly. Groaning he sits back up, putting Christian's hand back on the sheets. Or wants to. Christian's fingers are wrapped around his. His still sleepy mind can't find a reason for their weird behavior as he feels the squeeze. 

He gasps and his gaze jumps to Christian's face. Dark blue eyes are watching him, hazy and clouded and barely open. 

Shocked Steve stares back, not believing what he sees. 

“Chris?” he croaks finally.

He can only stare, every single muscle is frozen and his breath comes in quick, short pants. 

Another squeeze and a blink. 

Instead of immediately reaching for the button to call the nurse, Steve leans closer and tightens his grip around Christian's hand. 

“Chris? Can you hear me?” 

His voice is small and he's not sure if he's not dreaming, but there's more blinking and again, the pressure against his hand. 

Everything freezes, the world stops turning for a moment.

He's looking into Christian's eyes, not able to say or do anything, just feeling the relief washing over him like a huge warm wave. 

It’s too dark in the room to see more than a little blue shimmer but that’s all Steve needs. He thought he would never see it again and now it’s there, exhausted and weary but still there. 

“Oh my God...” Steve breathes, his entire body is shaking, “I thought I lost you.” 

He sees the slight frown on Christian's face but obviously even that’s too much. His heavy lids close again. 

“No, Chris, stay with me...” Steve protests desperately, though he knows it’s fairly normal. The docs told him that if he wakes up, it would be only for a few moments in the beginning. But he can't stand the feeling of being alone again. 

The soft grumble is so quiet he almost doesn't hear it but he feels the tug on his hand again. 

Tears run down Steve's face but a smile curls up his lips. 

“Okay, okay, just promise to wake up again, will ya?” 

Another squeeze, weaker now, but still there and a quiet buzz which Steve interprets as approval. 

“I dare you not to, man. I’ll kick your ass outta bed if you don’t.” 

Steve's voice sounds hoarse through the tears that stream down his face but he doesn’t care. Christian was awake and will be again. 

“Thank you,” he whispers into the dark room, not sure whom he's thanking for. 

It takes all of his strength to let go of Christian's hand but he has to let somebody know. He reaches for the button and as he pushes it down, he smiles widely. 

*

The next days are busy and hectic in the usually quiet room. Doctors wander in and out of the room, nurses check on Christian every hour and Steve watches every little change in his best friend. 

He'd woken up twice, always only for a few moments but it gives everybody hope. The paleness of his face leaves with every hour and gets replaced by his natural healthy color. 

Steve doesn't leave the room for a moment. He's sitting on his chair, knees up against his chest, watching, waiting, hoping to see the blue sparkles again. 

He had called his Mom and she'd promised to take the first flight out but Steve had told her to wait. 

“Nobody knows if or when it will happen again. No need to come out unless it is more constant. I'll let you know, okay?” Steve had said, smiling widely though. He knew it would happen again. 

But deep down inside he just doesn’t want to share with anybody, not even with his parents. 

Those tiny moments when Christian opens his eyes, confused and heavy-lidded, but lightening up when they find Steve. 

Those few minutes when he can keep his focus long enough on Steve to make his heart beat a little bit faster and fills every fiber of his being with hope. 

The next time Christian wakes up and his dazed gaze searches the room, it finds Steve sitting at the foot of the bed, cross-legged, just watching him. 

“Hey,” Steve says softly, happy to see him awake again. 

He wants to get up and call the nurse; he promised to do so as soon as Christian shows any sign of waking up again. 

But Christian manages to shake his head, its only a weak movement but Steve knows him well enough to know what it means. 

“But I have to let somebody know,” he responds even though he sits back on the bed. 

Another shake of the head and Steve grins. 

“Okay, but you know, that they will probably think I'm only imagining that you woke up when nobody ever sees it for themselves.” 

Christian's lips curl into a half smile and it simultaneously fills Steve’s heart with joy at the attempt, but also with sadness at the weakness of it. 

“Well,” Steve asks lightly, trying to act as natural as possible, “how are you today?” 

Steve observes Christian closely; he can't talk and won't for a while. The docs said he had to learn a lot of the natural stuff again, like talking, eating and walking. But for now Steve's glad he's awake and alert. 

Christian rolls his eyes, frowns, and Steve laughs softly. 

“Yeah, I can imagine. You were out for a couple of months, man, of course you aren’t feeling great.” 

More frowning and raised eyebrows. 

“You had an accident on set. It was pretty bad. You scared the shit outta many people, Chris.” 

Steve shifts a little and leans forward, searching Christian's eyes. 

“Don't do that ever again, you hear me?? I kill you if you ever scare me like that again,” he says quietly and as all his feelings and emotions seep through in those few words, Christian frowns again. 

“I'm serious, man. You scared me to death. I … I thought, I lost you for good...” 

Steve stops himself, leaning back again, trying to control his increasing breath. 

He almost misses the nod because he’s drowning in Christian's eyes, wanting him to understand how fucking relieved he is that he's conscious again. 

“Good,” Steve says, grinning quickly before he tears his eyes away; his heart feels like it wants to explode at all the emotions and he doesn’t need Christian to see them. 

“So,” he tries to keep a light tone, “anything you need?” 

He steels himself as he meets Christian's eyes again in order to read his face for an answer. He’s known him long enough to know what he wants even without words. 

Christian eyes him curiously but then he licks his lips and Steve hops off of the bed. He grabs the plastic cup from the table and fills it with water. He puts a straw into it and holds it close to Christian's lips. 

But Christian can't reach it and with a sigh Steve sets it back. He watches the man in the bed for a moment before he sits next to him. He carefully loops his arm around him and lifts him up. He shifts so Christian can lean against his side, his head heavy on his shoulder. 

He reaches for the cup again and this time it works better. With a content grumble Christian drinks while Steve holds him.

When the cup is empty Steve sets it back down and slowly lowers Christian back onto the pillows. 

“Okay?” 

Christian nods and another one of those half smiles flutters over his face. 

Steve gets up, pulls the covers back over Christian and out of instinct his hand brushes some strands of hair out of Christian's face. His fingertips tingle as they meet the warm skin and he sees Christian's shiver. 

He quickly pulls his hand back and looks away but Christian utters a protesting noise. Steve glances back and meets wide blue eyes, watching him closely. They slowly narrow and a half raised eyebrow accompanies a questioning grunt. 

“Nothing, dude, everything's fine,” Steve mumbles, “I really need to let the nurse and docs know. Be right back.” 

And Steve is out of the room in a heartbeat, fleeing from the man he needs more than he would ever admit to himself. 

*

The next weeks fly by like nothing. 

Christian makes rapid progress and amazes Steve every day with his sheer will to get back on his feet. 

After a few weeks he gets permission to go back home, since his complains get louder and grumpier, and they don’t see any reason to keep him at the hospital. 

Steve promises to take care of him, Christian promises to not overdo it and that he would return immediately if there are any problems. 

Both of their parents come and take them home. Steve cooks dinner and when they finally leave, Steve falls on a chair, exhausted but happy. 

Christian lounges on the couch in the living room, watching him intensely.

“What?” Steve says, grinning at him. 

“Nothing,” Christian's replies, groaning as he shifts and gets more comfortable. 

Steve sighs as he lets his gaze slide over the chaos in the kitchen. 

“Do you need anything?” he asks as he gets up to put the plates in the sink. 

“Yeah, actually I do. C'mere for a sec, would ya?” 

Steve frowns; the man sounds worn out and tired. 

He shuffles into the living room and sits on the armrest of the couch. 

“So? What you do need? Shall I make you a coffee? A drink? Shall I get your meds?” 

Christian shakes his head, eying Steve like it’s the first time he has seen him. 

“You were there, right? All the fucking time?” 

“Huh? Where?” 

Christian snorts. 

“At the hospital, moron. David, Sandy and my Mom told me all the same: you never left. They had to force you to leave.” 

Steve blushes and shrugs. 

“You would have done the same thing. No big deal.” 

Christian shakes his head again but groans; his neck isn't completely fine yet. 

“Be careful,” Steve says softly but Christian glares at him and Steve grins sheepishly. 

“Don't tell me what to do,” Christian growls. 

Steve holds up his hands. 

“Hey, just making sure you don’t have to go back, that’s all.” 

He smiles and Christian grins back. 

“So,” Steve says, “what do you need?” 

The smile on Christian's face fades away. He looks up, searching for Steve's eyes. 

“You gave up the _Parlor_.” 

It was a statement, not a question, but the sincere tone hits Steve right in the gut. He swallows and nods. 

“Yeah.” 

“Why?” 

“Because...I... I couldn’t do anything there. Darren owned it practically from the beginning and I... well, you...” 

“Stop stammering, Carlson, that’s not your thing,” Christian's interrupts him and sits back up. 

“Why didn’t you go on with your life? You didn’t have to spend all your time with me. You have your own life. Why waste it with injured old me?!” 

Steve feels anger rising.

“What the fuck, Chris? Do you think I could leave you there? Nobody knew what would happen with you. I... you were hurt and...”

Christian shoots him a hard look. 

“I was in a fucking coma. You couldn’t do anything. So, I ask you again: why did you spend all your time there?” 

Steve jumps to his feet, fury boiling in his blood.

“So what? Would you have preferred I leave you all alone there? Just go on with my life and forget you? Fuck, Kane, you know me better than that.” 

Christian's face turns red, and Steve knows he’s close to exploding.

“Bullshit. I know you better than anybody else. You wouldn’t have turned your studio down just to sit by my bed, watching me suffer through the day. What is it, man? Why couldn’t you leave me there? Why...” 

“Because I love you.” 

Steve's eyes grow huge as he slaps a hand to his mouth, biting hard on his tongue. 

The words linger in the air, echoing in Steve’s ears and he's staring at Christian in shock. 

Christian doesn't move; Steve's not sure if he's still breathing and he's afraid of even blinking.

“I...God, I'm sorry, I didn’t … you.. you know, what I mean. You're my best friend and I couldn’t just go on and...” 

Steve is babbling but Christian's harsh “Shut up,” cuts him off. 

With wide eyes Steve watches Christian struggle to his feet; every fiber in him yells to run away, get as far away from him as he could. He's pissed, Steve can see it, and he wants nothing more than to hide in his room, lock the door and just die. 

“Don't you dare,” Christian growls as he finally stands and staggers over to Steve, who instinctively takes a step back. 

Steve freezes in place at the hard tone. 

“Look, Chris, I'm really sorry, I didn’t mean...” 

“What did you just say?” Christian words are low and dangerously quiet. 

“I'm sorry?” Steve suggests weakly but Christian slowly shakes his head. 

“Not that.” 

Steve sighs, his entire body slumps and he feels the blush on his cheeks deepen. 

“I...,” Steve swallows and closes his eyes, uttering the inevitable, “I love you.” 

As those three words leave his mouth again, he knows they are true, always have been and always will be. He just didn’t want to see it. He didn’t want to admit that the reason for giving everything up was that he felt more for Christian than friendship. 

He feels Christian coming closer, feels his warmth, smells his very own scent and squeezes his eyes shut, waiting for the punch to connect. 

Christian's lips on his own are a shock. His eyes fly open and he jerks back. But Christian must have known that he would do that, as his hands are around Steve’s neck in an instant, pulling him back. 

“No, you ain’t going anywhere,” he murmurs and one hand slides down his side, pressing in the small of his back. 

Steve wants to protest but Christian's mouth shuts him up. His lips are warm and he tastes the wine they had for dinner. The hand around his neck slides into his hair, hard and rigid. His mouth presses softly against his own and Steve can't suppress the moan at the feeling. As if Christian had only waited for this, his lips part and his tongue flicks against Steve's lips. He opens up, just like that and his mouth is filled with all Christian, warm and sweet. Tongues sliding against each other, discovering the taste of the other one, learning the feeling of kissing each other. 

Steve's knees are buckling and his hands search for a hold in Christian's shirt. He’s desperately holding on, overwhelmed by the taste, the smell, the fucking amazing feeling of Christian's lips and tongue against his own. 

Far to soon Christian's pulls back, giving Steve some space to breathe. He gasps for the much needed air, hands still tangled in Christian's tee, head spinning with confusion. 

“Chris...what...?” he mutters, not sure if he's dreaming.

“Ain't that what you're talking about?” Christian asks, and the deep growl in his voice sends a hot shiver through Steve’s limbs. 

Steve can only stare; his brain tries to process what just happened. 

“Chris... I...” 

Christian tilts his head and his eyes darken as he narrows them.

“Is this what you want or not?” 

The question is quiet and Steve can't do anything else than nod. 

God, yes, he wants this, he wants it so bad that every single bone in his body is vibrating with need. 

“Say it. I wanna hear it,” Christian insists roughly, tightening his grip around Steve's waist.

Steve licks his lips, his throat is dry and he's not sure that he can get actual words out. Christian follows the movement with preying eyes. 

“Yes,” Steve croaks eventually, “yes, I want this. I want you.” 

Christian's mouth is back on his in the blink of an eye, hard and demanding. Steve stumbles a bit at the force of it and Christian goes with it and pushes him against the wall. He pins him against the stones, his body warm and solid against Steve's, moaning against his lips. 

Steve clings to him as if his life depends on it, all the suppressed emotions floating into that kiss, all the feelings he didn’t - couldn’t - admit, not even to himself. 

Christian's tongue curls around his, a feeling Steve can't compare to anything he ever felt in his life. It’s fantastic and mind-blowing, and even though it should feel weird it’s the best damn thing in the world. 

Christian growls low in his throat, diving deeper into Steve’s mouth, and the raw need he puts into the kiss has Steve’s hands trembling. He blindly presses closer, wanting to feel him everywhere, wanting to crawl into the heat of Christian's body. 

“Chris,” he groans into the other mans mouth, “you gotta stop...please...” 

Christian nips on his bottom lip, licks over it before he seals his lips over Steve's again, deepening the kiss. 

Steve can’t think, can't breathe, he can only hold on, melting into a kiss he dreamed of for so long. 

Eventually Christian bites his lip one last time before he pulls back, panting and silently growling. Steve opens his eyes and immediately drowns in the depth of shining blue seas, pupils blown wide and a tiny smile lingers on his glistening lips. 

“Chris,” Steve groans, feeling his dick rock hard in his jeans, and suddenly realizing that Christian's own hard on is pressed against his. 

“Steve...” Christian whispers and the sound of that has Steve whimper with desire. 

He closes his eyes to focus but all he feels is Christian against him and that feeling, knowing he's there, healthy and firm has him moan again. 

“God, I'm so glad I have you back. Don’t know what I would have done without you... I...” 

“Shhh, it’s all good, I'm fine, I'm here...”

Christian's stops him with another kiss, quickly, only a slide of lips against lips. 

“Yeah, I know,” Steve gasps, wrapping his arms around the other man and buries his head in the soft waves of Christian's hair, inhaling his scent deeply, ”I know, and I never was more grateful for that.” 

Christian hums soothingly as he pulls him closer, his arms strong and reassuring around Steve. 

The ringing of the phone tears them apart. Steve smiles warily at Christian as he lets go of him and stumbles to the couch where the phones lays.

“Hello?” 

“Hey honey,” Sandy says, “is everything okay over there?” 

Steve rolls his eyes and grins. His mom is one of the most caring women in the world but sometimes she overdoes it.

“Yes, Mom, you left 30 minutes ago, we're still alive and good here,” he replies, chuckling as he hears Christian's soft groan in his back. 

“Just wanted to make sure,” she pouts,” okay, honey, get some rest. It was a long day. Is Chris okay, too?” 

Steve turns and shivers as he meets Christian's dark gaze. Without looking away he nods.

“Yeah, he's fine. Say hi, Chris.” 

“Hi Chris,” Christian's grumbles loud enough for Sandy to hear, but his eyes are burning into Steve's, making him tremble again. 

Sandy laughs.

“Okay, okay,” she says, “go to bed, you two. You both need some sleep. I'll call tomorrow.” 

“Yes, Mom. Good night.” 

“Night, Stevie.” 

Steve lowers the phone and puts it back in the table. Christian follows every move with narrowed eyes, not taking his gaze away. Steve squirms, suddenly feeling shy and awkward. 

“We should go to bed,” he hems and Christian raises an eyebrow at him. 

“You know what I mean. You just came back from the hospital. You need some rest.” 

“I do?” Christian asks hoarsely and closes the distance between them. 

Steve nods, distracted by the things he can read in Christian's face. 

“Yeah....” 

“Really?” 

Christian is back to growling and Steve shudders. Christian reaches out and lets one finger trails over Steve's arm. Goosebumps appear immediately and Steve's eyes fall closed. 

“Are you going to spend the night with me again? Like you did all that time in the hospital?” Christian whispers, letting his fingers slide up and down Steve’s motionless arm. 

“I...Chris...” Steve stammers, torn between just giving in and knowing better than that. He straightens his back. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he mumbles, avoiding looking Christian in the eye, “you are still hurt and I... I don’t know if I can... I don’t want to hurt you... and...” 

“It’s okay,” Christian says softly and takes a step back. 

“Chris...” Steve wants to reach out but Christian shakes his head, smiling reassuringly at him. 

“Nah, you're right. I'm beat.” 

Steve feels terrible but he's still hard and he really wants to make sure this isn't just a mood for Christian; he's a bit drunk and still on his meds. 

“Well... good night then, Steve,” Christian says casually. He turns and walks slowly down the hallway. Steve stares before he hurries after him. 

“Hey...” he calls softly as Christian opens the door to his bedroom. 

“Yeah?” 

“Sleep tight,” Steve says as he reaches him. For a moment he doesn't know what to do before he leans forward and presses a chaste kiss on Christian's lips. 

Christian doesn't move for a moment before he kisses him back, soft and sweet and Steve's stomach flips at the silent groan that echoes around them. 

Christian lays a hand on Steve's cheek as he pulls back, his thumb caressing over his cheekbone, just a quick touch but so gentle that Steve's eyes fill with tears. 

“Good night, Chris,” Steve murmurs and leans into the touch before he steps back, smiling at Christian. 

“Good night, Stevie.” 

Christian turns and quietly closes the door. 

Steve stumbles back and leans against the wall. 

“Holy fuck,” he murmurs and slides down until he sits on the floor. His mind is buzzing with all the feelings and thoughts and he still feels Christian's lips on his own. 

A smile spreads over his face, wide and aching in its intensity. 

He sits there for a while until he has the strength to get up and wander back into the living room. He looks around, seeing the entire apartment with new eyes, the smile still on his tingling lips. 

He shakes his head and flicks off the lights; he can do the cleanup tomorrow. 

He walks to his own room and closes the door. He strips off his clothes and falls into bed, suddenly dead tired. Today has been overwhelming, and he's asleep the second his head hits the pillow. 

*

He wakes up, confused where he is for a moment before he realizes that he's in his own bed. He stretches, yawns and throws a glance at the clock at the bedside table. 

It’s 4 am and the room is dark, only the moon throws pale shadows on the floor. Steve relishes the silence as a sound outside his room gets his attention. He hears a soft curse as the door opens slowly. 

He watches as Christian peeks in, and his heart stops for a second. 

Christian isn't moving, but then he pushes the door open and shuffles into the room. 

Steve's eyes follow him as he walks around the bed, standing there for a second before he sits on the empty side, permeating insecurity and determination at the same time. 

Christian lifts the end of the covers and slips in next to Steve. He's breathing harshly before he turns, and as he sees that Steve's awake he gasps. 

“I can't sleep,” he grumbles, daring Steve to say anything against that. 

Steve chuckles softly but as Christian's arms loop around him and pulls him against his body, his breath catches in his throat. 

Christian only wears some boxers and his naked chest is burning hot against Steve's skin. All his nerves are on fire at the feeling of Christian pressed against him. 

Steve sighs deeply and Christian stirs. 

“You okay?” 

Steve nods shakily and his hand finds its way into the mess of Christian's hair. The strands are silky and soft against his fingertips and he squeezes his eyes shut. God, he was itching to play with his hair for months and now he can't get enough of it.

“Yeah, I'm fine,” he whispers, threading his fingers through the dark curls, cradling Christian's neck and getting totally lost in the amazing feeling. 

“They wanted to cut your hair, you know,” he says quietly and feels him freeze. 

“I didn’t let them,” Steve assures him quickly, “I know that you would have hated me for allowing it.” 

“Damn straight,” he mutters, and Steve hears the relief in his voice. 

Christian's hand roams slowly over Steve's back, just a light touch but it makes Steve shiver again. 

“You know,” Christian whispers into the dark, “I knew you were there...all the time. I don’t know how, but I felt you. Knew you were around. Dunno what it was... I just... I...could feel your...presence, I guess...sometimes I could smell you...but I couldn’t move...I wanted to let you know that I could hear you...but I couldn’t...God, I wished...wished so badly to talk to you...” 

The words are hesitant and Steve hears the desperation in them. He snuggles closer, pressing Christian tighter, wordlessly assuring him that he's here now, not letting him go again. 

“It was like being robbed from my body...I...sometimes I thought I could move if I would concentrate enough but it never happened... I....” 

His voice breaks and he swallows audible. 

“Shh, Chris, it’s over now...everything's okay...” 

Steve forces back the tears and places light kisses on the skin of Christian's neck. 

Christian moans silently and his grip around Steve's waist tightens, his fingers digging deep into his hips. 

Steve inhales deeply, gets lost in Christian's musky scent. 

“God, do you have any idea how much I missed your smell?” 

The words slip through before Steve can hold them back. He blushes.

“Sorry, I mean... in the hospital... you had that terrible disinfection smell going on and...”

Christian stops his nervous rambling with a kiss. 

“Do you know that you talk too much when you're antsy?” he mumbles against his mouth, nipping lightly on Steve's bottom lip. 

“I know, I'm sorry...” 

“Would you stop apologizing?” 

“I'm...” 

“If you say sorry one more time, I'm leaving right the fuck now.” 

“No.” 

Steve slings his leg over Christian's, tangles his hand in his hair and his lips find the way back onto Christian's, kissing him deeply; it’s like the world around them stops moving. 

It’s just him and Christian, limbs tangled together, not knowing where one starts and the other ends. It’s only them, lost in a bubble outside of everything, and nothing can bother them. 

Christian's tongue is in his mouth, searching his, moans vibrating against each other, setting all nerves on fire and shooting pure need through his body. 

Steve's hand slides down his neck, over his shoulders and he's amazed at the smooth skin under his palms. 

“You feel so good,” he whispers into the kiss and Christian groans again. 

“And you didn’t? Hell, do you have any idea how fucking horny you make me?” Christian's low reply has Steve's hips buck against Christian and draws a husky laugh from him. 

“I never expected to get turned on by anybody who doesn’t have boobs...” 

Steve gasps as Christian's hand slide over his ass and squeezes hard. 

“Fuck, do you think I did...” he pants, trying to get even closer to the other man, rubbing against him in slow circles. Moans echo through the room and Steve feels pre-come leaking from his hard dick. 

“Steve...” Christian's voice is only a soft pant and he rocks hard against him, shaking Steve to his very core with the barely-hidden need in his tone. 

“Chris...you...do you really want this?” 

It takes every single inch of composure to utter those words but he has to say them. 

Christian leans back, searching Steve's eyes in the darkness of the room. 

“Are you serious?” he growls, drilling his stare into Steve' eyes. 

Steve shrugs awkwardly, looking away. He's very aware that their hard cocks are still rubbing against each other and that he's only moments away from coming in his pants. 

“You've been...well, you're just horny... drunk and on meds... I...,” he falls silent, knowing how desperate he sounds. But he also knows that this is something he wants to make work. His subconscious knew it all along, even though he didn’t want to admit it out loud. 

Christian releases the grip on his ass and lifts his chin. 

“Hey, I still have a right hand, you know? If I was just horny, I would be in my own room, jerking off to thoughts of a pretty blonde. But I'm here...with you...” 

Steve shudders thoroughly; in Christian's eyes he only sees affection and the urge that he believes him. 

“Steve, you are my everything. I never realized it, but you were always there for me, in good but also in bad times. Especially in the bad times. I never thought that I could feel more for you than what we had, our friendship. But the things you told me when you thought I wasn’t conscious, the things you did for me... they showed me that I... I can't live without you... I don’t want to live without you. I need you. And right now I need you more than I ever needed anything else.” 

Steve launches himself against Christian, his lips finding Christian's momentarily and as he sinks into the kiss, he gets lost in it, and nothing else matters. 

As he thinks he can't take it anymore he flips him around, covering Christian with his entire body. He can't stop kissing him, and judging by the moans from the other man he isn't alone with that feeling. 

He starts kissing down Christian's neck and slowly shifts lower, kisses every inch of warm skin he can find. His lips brush over Christian's nipple and as he licks over it, Christian yelps and arches into him. Smiling softly Steve bites at the small nub and Christian's hands dig hard into Steve's shoulders. 

“Fuck...” 

Steve slides further down, kissing and licking over Christian's body, amazed by the sounds the other man makes. As he reaches the waistband of Christian's boxers he stops and glances up to meet clouded, dark eyes. He raises an eyebrow, asking a muted question, and both know that this will change everything. 

Christian smiles and gives him a short nod. 

Steve slips his fingers between skin and fabric and pulls it slowly down as Christian watches him closely. Steve shoves the fabric down, trailing his hands over Christian's long, muscular legs. He shifts and settles between Christian's thighs, his mouth ghosting over the soft skin, his hands just below his hips, fingers spread wide to cover as much flesh as possible. 

The first contact with Christian's throbbing cock has him growl and Christian jerks at the touch. Steve presses him back into the mattress and licks carefully over the satiny skin, trembling with the overwhelming need to taste Christian. 

As he reaches the head and his tongue dances over the slit, the salty taste exploding in his mouth makes him groan loudly. 

“God,” he hears Christian pant and he twists his hands into Steve’s hair. 

Steve licks over it again, drawing another moan from Christian. He slides down his length, taking him all in, wanting to feel him, giving Christian everything he could. 

“Fuck, yeah...God...Steve...yes...more....” 

Christian's murmured words barely reach Steve; he's caught up in the sensation of Christian’s cock in his mouth. 

He carefully bites down, then starts sucking him, hard and viciously. 

Christian's hands in his hair grasp tighter, he’s writhing under Steve’s mouth and words become unneeded; he’s only whimpering now: long, low whines that shoot straight to Steve's own dick in its hotness. 

One hand leaves Christian's hip, slides down and cups his balls, massaging them gently. 

Christian bucks into Steve's mouth, growling constantly now, raw and needy. 

Steve sucks harder, faster, feeling that Christian is close; he stiffens every now and then, shuddering and as he comes, it’s with a loud cry, shooting his release down Steve’s throat. He digs his hands deep into Christian's hips, not letting him back away and swallows every single drop of it. As he stops trembling, Steve lets go and crawls back up, kissing Christian fiercely, letting him taste himself. 

They moan into each other’s mouth and as Christian's hand slides between their bodies, Steve’s head falls down, his hair covering his face. 

Christian's hand around his aching dick feels heavenly and Steve bites his lip to hide the desperate sounds escaping his mouth. 

“Oh God, yes,” he breathes against Christian's ear, biting at the earlobe, his hands running restlessly over Christian's chest, needing to feel him. 

It takes only a few strokes for him to come and his orgasm is the most intense in his entire life. He’s shaking violently and he can barely breathe. Christian wraps his arms around him, holding him tightly. 

Eventually he calms down, and he lifts his head, searching for Christian's eyes. 

“Hey,” he murmurs, voice breaking with overflowing emotions. 

Christian kisses him softly and shifts a bit so Steve can settle against his shoulder, hands now lazily wandering over each other’s skin. 

“You think you can sleep now?” Steve mumbles quietly, licking over the small spot below Christian's jaw, humming at the taste of his skin. 

Christian chuckles and Steve presses a little closer to him.

“God, you have no idea how much I missed your laugh... fuck, I missed everything,” he says, running a hand over Christian's face, caressing his cheek. 

“I know,” Christian's replies, covering Steve’s hand with his own. He holds on for a moment before he lifts their joined hands and kisses every knuckle on Steve’s hand. He entwines their fingers and puts them on his chest, just over his heart. 

Both fall silent, only their calming breaths filling the room. Steve's lids get heavier and he blinks a little before he just gives in, and the last thing he is aware of is Christian's steady heartbeat under his palm.

*

The sun shines brightly into the room as Steve opens his eyes. He feels refreshed and alive, for the first time in a long while. He feels Christian's arm around his waist and his warm body is pressed against Steve's back. A smile curls Steve's lips as he carefully rolls over, not wanting to disturb Christian's sleep. 

He's still sleeping, his hair is tousled and his lips look bruised; Steve licks over his own, enjoying the raw feeling of it. He could get used that. 

He strokes over Christian's cheek, hooking a strand of those dark curls behind his ear. Christian sniffles quietly but doesn't wake up. 

Steve watches him sleep a while; it’s nothing new, he'd watched him for months but this is something new. He is sleeping, not unconscious, and he's here, in Steve's bed and he can't think of anything he wants more for the rest of his life.

Christian murmurs again and Steve caresses his cheek, fingertips oversensitive to the faint touch. 

“Shhh, sleep, baby, you need it.” 

He's blushing as he says it but at the same moment he can't stop the smile that spreads over his face. 

“I guess that’s how it’s going to be now, hmm? Baby...” 

Steve drawls the word, rolling it over his tongue, and he really likes the sound of it. He likes the feeling even more that it causes his stomach to flip and lights a hot burning glow in his chest. 

He leans over and kisses Christian's nose. He chuckles as he wrinkles it and mutters sleepily. 

“Sleep, I'll be right back,” Steve murmurs and slides out of bed. He pats into the bathroom; he's sticky and he wants to shower before starting to make breakfast. 

After he’s showered he wanders back into his bedroom, smiling to himself at Christian's form under his sheets. He silently gets some pants and a shirt and heads towards the kitchen. 

*

Two hours later he had cleaned up the mess from the evening and is preparing breakfast as Christian stumbles into the kitchen, eyes only half open, wearing only sweatpants. As Steve takes a closer look he laughs out loud: they are his own, and even though they are a little too tight they still fit him. 

Christian throws him his usual grumpy morning look and Steve grins; some things never change. 

“You said you'd be right back,” Christian pouts and Steve bites back another grin at his hurt tone. 

“Took a little longer to clean up here,” he shrugs, pouring Christian his first coffee of the day. He adds milk and sugar and turns to hand Christian the cup. Christian looks at the mug, but then his gaze wanders over Steve's arms, over his chest until he locks eyes with him. He takes the few steps that separate them and takes the mug out of Steve’s hands. 

For a moment neither of them knows what to do. It’s Christian who moves first and leans forward to kiss Steve softly. Steve sighs as their lips meet in the most innocent morning kiss and Christian smiles against his mouth. 

His eyes are sparkling like blue diamonds as he pulls back. 

“Good morning.” 

Steve blinks, a little baffled but Christian nudges against him and takes a sip of his coffee. 

“What? Did you think I would freak out once I got sober again? You should know me better...Darlin'” 

The last word he says with all his Okie twang and Steve feels his dick twitching in his pants. 

Christian winks at him and Steve’s heart flutters again. 

He hems, wills himself to turn away and puts the last plate on the table. Christian watches him before he slides on the chair and buzzes appreciatively. 

“Wow, that’s more than the usual pancakes and toast,” he says, raising an eyebrow at the delicacies on the table. 

Steve shrugs again. 

“It’s the first real one for you, so I thought I make it a good one.” 

Christian beams at him and Steve's breath catches again; he has almost forgotten how incredibly blue Christian's eyes are and what they do to him. 

“Eat before it gets cold,” Steve says and pours himself a coffee. 

Christian does what he wants and for a while there is nothing to hear other than them eating and Christian's content moans. 

Steve can't eat that much so early so he leans back, mug in his hands and just watches Christian. 

Christian munches on the last piece of bacon and as he leans back he sighs happily. 

“That was amazing, thank you, Steve.” 

Steve smiles shyly. 

“Sure thing, man, no biggie.” 

“So,” Christian's say, rubbing his hands together, “what are we doing today?” 

He looks like a little child, bursting with eagerness. 

Steve grins at him, getting up and collects the empty plates. 

“You, my friend, can move your ass to the couch, because you're still supposed to rest. And I promised to keep an eye on you, so I won’t let you go anywhere.” 

“What? Don’t you think I've been laying around long enough? I want...” 

Steve interrupts him, grinning wickedly now. 

“I don’t care what you want. Your ass, couch. Watch some TV, sleep, hell, I can get you your guitar if you want...” 

He stops in his ranting as Christian gets up and pushes him against the counter. His hands slowly run over Steve's arms, causing goosebumps all over his body. 

“What do I have to do for you let me out?” Christian murmurs, stepping a little closer to brush his lips over Steve's. 

Steve groans, wrapping his arms around his neck, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss, still amazed that he can just do it. Both get lost in the feeling of each other. 

Christian moans quietly as Steve breaks the kiss, panting a little. 

“That's not gonna help, you know?” he mutters, stroking over Christian's head and neck. He twists his fingers in those dark curls and Christian almost purrs at the touch. 

“I'm not gonna let you leave, man, you're still going to stay here.” 

Christian's body is vibrating with the noises he’s producing, the buzzing is deep and he sounds like a big, content cat. Steve feels him shivering in his arm and he pulls him back into another passionate kiss. 

Eventually they part, both breathing hard and Christian's eyes are almost black as he tilts his head, looking at Steve. 

“Not working, hmm?” he mumbles and a mischievous grin flickers over his face. 

“Nope,” Steve replies, smirking back, feeling joy bubbling up from deep inside. He has never been happier in his entire life. 

“Shit,” Christian curses softly but with no heat in his tone. 

“Couch, huh?” 

Steve nods, nipping quickly on Christian's bruised bottom lip. 

“Couch. But hey, I'll get you anything you want so you should be fine,” Steve chuckles at Christian's pouting. 

“Anything?” 

Fuck, how can one word be that seductive and promising? 

“Almost anything,” Steve corrects himself quickly as he sees Christian's darkening eyes roaming over his body. 

“Tease,” Christian's growls but he steps back, readjusting himself. 

“Fuck, can you stop that?” Steve pants, taking a deep breath, “You're supposed to recover.” 

“You can help with that,” Christian murmurs, still cupping his dick and Steve moans at the view. 

“I'm not sure that it would help,” Steve says weakly but he's already taking a step closer to the other man. 

“Oh, it would help, trust me,” Christian's eyes narrow as he grabs Steve's shirt and pulls him into a breathtaking kiss. 

Steve moans frantically as Christian's tongue slides past his parting lips and curls around his own. He can't resist any longer; his cock is aching and as he shoves his thigh between Christian's legs, he feels Christian's hard length pressing against the thin fabric of his pants. 

The kiss gets more urgent, more needy and Steve can't hold back the low moans, showing Christian how much he wants, needs, this. Christian bites Steve’s lower lip, sucking it into his mouth before he lets go and drags Steve into the living room. He shoves him onto the couch and is all over him in an instant, pressing him into the cushions. 

Steve’s head falls back as Christian's hot lips kiss a soft trail over his neck. 

“Take it off,” he demands roughly and tugs on Steve's shirt. 

Steve struggles a moment but then the shirt is gone and Christian's mouth is on his skin again, kissing, licking, driving Steve crazy with longing. 

Christian maps every inch of Steve upper body with hands and lips, leaving it burning, and as he slides lower Steve is panting loudly. 

“If I do anything wrong let me know,” Christian mumbles against his belly and as he drops to his knees between Steve's spread legs, Steve gasps. 

Christian's hands slowly pull down his pants and Steve lifts his ass to help. As the fabric drops to the floor, Christian sits back on his heels and his gaze flickers to Steve’s flushed face. 

“I never did this before,” Christian whispers and Steve doesn’t know what to say but he reaches out and lays his hand on his cheek, assuring him wordlessly that he can't do anything wrong. 

And as if Christian understands, he nods quickly before his hands are on Steve’s thighs, opening them a little wider. He shuffles a bit closer and with one last dark look up he lowers his head and Steve's brain stops working. 

Christian's lips are like fire on his skin as he kisses and bites his way along his inner thighs. His hair swipes cool over Steve's legs, creating a contrast to the warmth of his mouth. Strands brush over his leaking dick and just that has him almost come. His head falls back and his hands are in those strands, holding on, grounding him, keeping him from falling apart just there. 

Christian's hands, still running over his legs, come to stop on Steve's hips, digging deep into the flesh as Christian closes his lips around Steve's dick. 

Steve cries out; he can't help it, it’s just incredible, all heat and moisture and just fucking perfect. His own hands claw into Christian's hair, wanting to shove him down, making him take it all but there's that little voice in the back of his head telling him to be gentle. It takes every single inch of composure to not buck his hips into that amazing hotness of Christian's mouth. Steve concentrates on his breathing, in and out, in and out. 

Christian tongue presses against the underside of his dick, flat and hard. He's not moving, but it’s almost too much to endure for Steve. His head is spinning and his entire world consists of heat and Christian.

“Move, goddammit... please...God...please...” 

His words are hushed, he can't breathe properly and as he feels Christian's lips stretch around his oversensitive dick into a smile, even that is hard to endure. 

Christian's hands dig deeper into Steve hips and he eventually moves. His lips close around Steve, sucking hard before he slips up until only the weeping tip is still in his mouth. His tongue slides over it, curls around the head, and Steve whimpers loudly. 

“Fuck, fuck...ohmygod... fuck...” 

He's cursing breathlessly, it’s too much, too overwhelming, Steve can't take it and still, it's not enough. 

Christian angles his head and takes him in again, all the way down, his teeth scratching over the thin skin and Steve yells as he feels his orgasm crushing against him. 

Christian pins him into the couch, he's sucking relentlessly now, not giving him space to back away and Steve shoots into his mouth, over and over again. It feels like he can never stop, burst after burst leaves his cock, violent in its power. He barely notices that Christian swallows, swallows it all until Steve breaks down, slumping into the couch, boneless and breathless in bliss. His hands fall from Christian's head, powerless; he can't move, not for the life of it. 

He feels Christian's moan around his still dripping cock and sheer will power has him crack open one eye. Christian's lips are still firmly wrapped around his dick but his hand is in his own pants, jerking of sharply and Steve wants to protest, wants to do that but he can't. He watches as Christian squeezes his eyes shut, sees how he frowns and then his lips open, releasing Steve and the moans coming out are pure pornographic. He shudders, his head falls on Steve's leg and as he stiffens, arching into his own hand, Steve feels Christian's orgasm like his own. He shaking heavily, biting down on Steve’s thigh, not noticing anything around him; he’s lost in his own release. 

Eventually he stops quivering, breaking down on the floor, head still against Steve's flesh, his breath ghosting hot and fast over his leg. 

Minutes pass and neither of them is able to move, only sharp pants and low whines fill the room. As Steve can feel some muscles again, his fingers crawl to Christian's shoulder, the only part he can reach without moving too much. Christian jerks at the touch but as he lifts his head, the smile on his lips is breathtaking. 

Steve can't talk, his heart is swelling at the trust and the affection he can see in the wide blown eyes. Christian frowns at him and Steve realizes that tears are running down his face. He shakes his head, smiling widely and it takes all his strength to lean forward and cup Christian's face with both hands. He kisses him and it’s like a promise, a vow, made with love and all his heart. 

Christian answers the kiss just as deeply, as one hand crawls over Steve’s arm and tangles in his hair, pulling him closer. 

Panting and smiling they break apart, and Steve once again gets lost in Christian's beautiful eyes, looking at him, showing all those feelings Steve feels himself. 

“C'mere,” Steve croaks, tugging on Christian's shoulder to make him move. 

“Can't,” Christian whispers, blushing a bit as he shifts on the floor, leaning heavily against the couch. 

“Give me a sec.” 

Steve smiles and falls back himself; he feels exhausted, in a good way, though, and he's sure Christian feels the same. He threads his fingers into Christian's hair, lazily combing through it and he hears quiet noises, almost like purrs. 

As Christian eventually moves, Steve startles out of a slumbery daze. Groaning, Christian scrambles to his feet, crawls onto the couch and leans against Steve, sleepily nuzzling his neck. 

“I could get used to this,” he murmurs against his sweaty skin and Steve laughs roughly. He turns his head and captures Christian's lips in a soft kiss. 

“Yeah, me too,” he answers quietly, pushing the hair out of Christian's face. 

“Shower?” he asks as Christian grimaces as he moves closer. 

“Sounds great,” he says, “just give me a day or two. Maybe I can move by then.” 

Steve chuckles and loops one arm around Christian, pulls him against him and slides deeper into the couch. Christian wraps himself around Steve, arms and legs thrown over the other man, and Steve thinks he won’t be moving anytime soon. 

A happy smile lingers on his lips as he drifts of to sleep. 

*

When he wakes up, Christian's gone and a blanket is laying over him. He blinks owlishly around but no sign of Christian. He sits up and curses at the sticky feeling on his belly and his legs. Shower, he thinks, and staggers to his feet. 

“Chris?” he calls into the quiet apartment. 

“I'm here,” he hears from outside and as he looks over, the deck doors are open and Christian stands in the doorframe, wearing his own pants now. 

“Hey.” 

Steve rubs his eyes and throws the blanket away, patting over to Christian. 

“What are you doing,” he asks as he leans in to place a kiss on his lips. 

Christian hums softly as he deepens the kiss before he lets him go. 

“Nothing. Just enjoying the sun.” 

Steve throws a look outside; it’s bright and warm and the sun stands high in the blue sky.

“Wow. I don’t think I've seen that in a while.” 

Christian smiles.

“Since you won’t let me go out, I thought just sitting outside would be okay.” 

Steve playfully slaps his arm. 

“Give me a minute and I'm joining you. Just need a shower before...” 

He glares down his body and cocks an eyebrow at Christian. He chuckles and runs a finger over Steve’s chest, who promptly shudders at the touch. 

“I'll be here,” he says hoarsely, and it sounds like a promise. 

Steve has to force himself to turn and walk to the bathroom. He hurries in the shower and as he comes back, Christian is sitting on the deckchair, watching the clouds in the sky drift by. 

Steve stops in the kitchen to get some coffee and then steps outside. 

The air is warm from the sun, which is throwing its beams all over the deck. 

Steve sighs contently as he sits on the chair next to Christian and hands him the mug. 

“Thanks,” Christian says, taking a long sip of the brew. 

They sit silently, seizing the rare Portlandian sun and drinking their coffee. 

“Steve?” 

Steve looks over to Christian. 

“Hmm?” 

“Thank you. For everything.” 

Christian's eyes are wide and stern, almost glowing in the sun. 

Steve squirms under his honest stare. 

“For what? I didn’t do anything.” 

Christian cocks an eyebrow at him. 

“Are you kidding? You did everything for me. You saved my life.”

Steve shakes his head.

“Nah, that wasn’t me. The doctors...” 

“Fuck, Steve, don’t you get it?” Christian sits up, taking one of Steve's hands. 

“Without you I wouldn’t have survived the first few days. Remember? I heard you, all the fucking time. I know what you did. Don’t play it down. You are the fucking reason I woke up again. I wanted to let you know how much that meant to me... wanted to tell you...” 

He stops and swallows hard, looking down on their hands. 

Steve sees how he shivers and entwines his fingers with his. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” he says, squeezing Christian's hand. 

Christian looks up again and shakes his head. 

“No, its not. See, you gave up everything... for me. I never would have wanted that. But... I'm glad you did. I... I never realized how much you meant to me until then. I can't live without you. And I don’t want to. Not anymore. I need you...” 

Steve leans over and caresses his cheek. 

“Chris, I'm here and I don’t plan on going anywhere. Not unless you want me to...” 

“No! I wont let you go. Not ever. I've wasted too much time already. So...uhm... I thought... uh... will you move in with me?” 

Christian almost stumbles over the last sentence and Steve feels a hot sting in his stomach. 

He doesn’t have to think about that, not one second. 

“Yes, Christian, I would love to do that.” 

Christian looks up again, a brilliant smile brightening his face and Steve is again struck by its beauty. 

Neither of them says anything as they lean in, lips finding each other easily and Steve knows this kiss is the beginning of a new life. A life with the man he thought he lost forever, and who is and always will be the center of his universe. 

A loud cough makes them almost jump out of their skin. 

“I see you feel better already,” Riley grins as he climbs up the last step to the deck. He sets down the bottle of Jack and the flowers in his hand and pulls Christian up and into a tight hug. 

“Don't you ever do that again, you hear me?” he grumbles, squishing Christian a little longer before he lets him go. He grabs his gifts and hands them both to Christian, who's torn between blushing and hitting Riley against the head. Steve hides his grin behind his mug but he sees the sharp look Christian throws his way before he faces Riley again.

“Flowers, Smith?? Seriously??” he growls, waving the colorful bunch in front of Riley's grinning face. 

Riley laughs loudly and flops down on an empty chair. 

“Well, looks like you two may need more soon,” he suggests chuckling as both of them blush. 

“I hate you, Smith, from the bottom of my heart,” Christian says through gritted teeth, falling back into his chair and opening the bottle. 

“Uh, no, you won’t do that,” Steve hisses and takes the Jack away from him. He blushes as Riley giggles again. 

“You're still on meds, you don’t get to drink.” 

Christian stares at him with big eyes, almost shocked at his behavior.

“Are you kidding? Hey, I had wine last night, how is...” 

“That was only wine and you had only 2 glasses. This..,” he holds up the bottle, “will send you straight back to the hospital. So, no Jack for you.” 

Christian shakes his head repeatedly but he complies and leans back in his seat. 

Steve grins softly before he turns to Riley who smirks knowingly at him. 

“So,” he says, letting his gaze wander between Steve and Christian, “you two finally worked it out, huh?” 

Steve blushes again but Christian's “That's none of your business, Smith,” keeps him from answering. 

Riley laughs again. 

“Man, it was about time.” 

Christian frowns, Steve glares and Riley is shaking with laughter. 

“Guys, a blind person could have seen it. You two were just too stubborn to admit it, eh?” 

Steve looks at Christian who returns the look and then just shrugs. 

“I guess we just needed some interference from above...,” he says, not taking his eyes from Steve. 

His warm smile makes Steve's heart beat a little faster. He can't help but reach out and quickly brush his hand over Christian’s arm. 

“Yeah,” he murmurs quietly, once again getting lost in Christian's eyes. 

Riley eyes them both curiously. 

“Man, one can get a toothache just from watching you two,” he snickers and rolls his eyes. 

Christian growls and tears his gaze away from Steve to focus on Riley. 

“If you only came over to bitch around, I can tell you that I may not be back to 100%, but I can still kick _your_ bony ass out,” he states, making an attempt to get up. 

Riley grins at him and holds up his hands. 

“Nah, man, I'm good. Sorry. C'mon, even though we all knew, it’s something one needs to get used to, okay?!” 

He shrugs before he grins again and nods at the bottle Steve still holds in his hand. 

“So, what does a man have to do to get a drink around here?” 

*

It’s getting dark when Riley leaves, hugging them both tightly. 

“Behave, you two. I still wanna be able to visit without wondering where it’s safe to sit,” he teases as he lets go of Christian. 

Christian punches him in the arm and Riley jumps down the stairs, his evil giggle hanging a little longer in the air. 

Steve rolls his eyes and empties the whiskey in his glass before Christian can sneak the rest. 

Christian snorts and stretches out on the chair again. 

“He's just jealous,” he jokes. A sudden yawn makes his jaw crack and his lids are fluttering. 

“Go to bed, Chris.” 

“Nah, I don’t want to,” he says, shifting on the chair, getting more comfortable. 

“Hey, if you fall asleep out here, I'm not carrying your ass to bed,” Steve shoots back and pours himself another drink. Christian watches the gold liquid with longing but Steve stays iron-strong and fills Christian’s glass with coke. 

Christian pouts but he raises it anyways. 

“To a good day,” he says. 

“To more good days to come,” Steve adds and clinks his glass against Christian's. 

“Steve?” 

“Yeah?” 

Christian hems before he continues.

“You haven’t played in a while, right?” 

Steve shrugs and nods. 

“Well, yes. And?” 

Christian takes another sip of his drink. 

“Would you play a bit? I miss the sound of the guitar.” 

Steve looks at him, letting his eyes wander over his figure before he locks eyes with him. 

“I can try. It’s been a while.” 

Christian's gaze is pleading and Steve gets up and goes inside to get the instrument. As he opens the door of his closet and grabs the case, he feels his fingers twitch and the blood singing in his veins. 

Carefully he sets the case on the bed and opens it. He stares at the instrument for a while before he takes it out. His mind remembers the feeling of the hard wood under his palms and he can feel the taut strings against his fingertips. 

He walks back outside and sits on the chair, legs crossed, the guitar loosely in his hands. 

“Be gentle,” he mumbles as he starts tuning it. 

“Always.” 

Steve concentrates on the strangely unfamiliar sounds; the guitar is out of tune and it takes him a while to make it sound right again. When he's finally content with it he strums over, playing through the cords and smiles happily. 

“Okay. Anything special you wanna hear?” he asks Christian, settling against the back of the chair, guitar on his lap. 

“No, just play.” 

Christian’s answer is quiet and carries something sad in it, but Steve knows him. He's tired and emotional and he needs a distraction. 

Steve quickly goes through a list of songs in his head before he starts playing. 

At first it’s weird; it doesn’t feel right and he flinches at the thought of having forgotten how to do this. But he keeps going and slowly it sounds better, feels better, and as he finally becomes one with his instrument again, his lips curl into a grateful smile. 

He plays through the song, humming softly along and fades directly into another song. After three songs he feels secure enough to play one of his own. 

Lost in the music he's still only humming along as Christian's dark voice startles him a bit. 

“ _...but you and I both know, that at the end of the day or even when the day is new, there’s always one thing I can count on with you. Even if our plans don’t turn out the way we thought they would_ _you make doin’ nothing feel so good...”_

Steve head shoots up and he stares at him, stunned and speechless. Christian lays in the chair, eyes closed, huskily singing until he realizes that Steve stopped playing. He glares over. 

“You know my songs?” Steve can only whisper; he’s still in shock over the fact that Christian knows the lyrics to his songs. 

“Sure,” Christian simply says before he closes his eyes again. 

“But...” Steve doesn’t know what to say. 

“No but, just keep playing. Please?” 

Christian voice is low and begging and gets straight to Steve's heart. He takes a deep breath to calm himself down and continues playing. 

He goes through a couple of his own songs and Christian sings along, low and sometimes inaudible but Steve still hears him. 

After a while he lets the last song fade out and silence falls over both men. 

The sun is long gone, darkness surrounds them, and angry clouds chase over the sky. A harsh wind comes up and blows cold air against them. 

“Lets go inside,” Steve says and stands up. 

Christian isn't moving, he seems far away with his thoughts.

“Chris? C'mon, it’s going to rain.” 

“Hmm?” Christian looks up, clearly not listening. 

Steve shakes his head and just holds one hand out. Christian lays his in it and Steve pulls him up. 

Looking each other in the eyes for a moment, Steve lets go of his hand and takes the guitar as the first drops start to fall. 

“Just in time,” he says and hurries towards the door. 

“I love you.” 

Steve stops dead in his tracks, half inside the apartment, bent over as he's setting the guitar down. 

He slowly unbends and turns to face Christian, who stands besides the table, watching him with big eyes. His hands are shaking but his gaze is straight and open as he takes one hesitant step closer to Steve's frozen figure. 

He raises one hand and slides it in Steve's hair, warm and lively against his skin. 

Steve opens his mouth, wants to say something, anything but he can't. The lump in his throat is too big and he swallows a couple of times but it’s not going away. 

Christian sees him struggle; he lays a finger on Steve's trembling lips and shakes his head. 

He leans down and kisses him gently. All of his emotions show in that kiss and Steve's eyes fill with tears. He grabs a handful of Christian's hair and deepens the kiss; wanting, needing to show him how much this means to him, even though he can't find the words for it. 

But Christian knows, like he always does, and he presses harder against him, his hands softly stroking over Steve's back, getting totally lost in that kiss. 

Rain starts falling, slowly at first, but quickly it’s pouring down and neither of them notices it. They keep kissing, not realizing anything around them than the other man, lips sealed together, assuring each other without words to never leave again. 

Both are soaked as they finally part, fingers entwined, drowning in the other man's eyes. 

There's no need for words, they just know and both smile at each other as they turn and disappear inside. 

The rain is drumming loudly on the wood of the deck, engulfing everything in a gray veil, dense and impervious, hiding two burning hearts from the world. 

 

 


End file.
